Paper Planes
by darich19
Summary: A bunch of short stories centred around Michonne, based upon the song Paper Planes by Jon Bellion. Rated 'M' because eventually there may be some... steamy chapters(?) (one of my first fanfictions, so reviews are welcome!)
1. Co-Pilot

A bunch of Richonne scenes based on the song: Paper Planes – Jon Bellion (Enjoy!)

**_"_****_All that ass it was so first class.  
She was my co-pilot with a mile high swag."_**

"Hey, Rick!" Michonne held up a medium sized brown shirt against her for a second, peered at it, then threw it at him. "It'd suit you better."  
He caught it with one hand and smirked at it.  
They had stumbled upon what seemed to be a donation shop, with a bunch of clothes gathering dust on their sleeves.

Rick peered at Michonne as she ran her fingers along clothes in the baby section, seeming slightly out of the moment, her eyes glazing over and not taking a single thing in.  
A distant grown caused her to snap into defensive mode and her eyes became hard again, causing her to grab some baby clothes for Judith, throw them in the bag and rip out her Katana in an instant.

"It's fine," Rick told her, holding out his hand as if to quiet everything in order to reassure her. The groan ceased and their breaths eventually weren't being held captive in their chests.

Gradually, they returned to their shopping. Michonne dropped an item, the metal hanger colliding with the floor. Their breaths were held captive once again, but to their luck, no groans found themselves in the atmosphere.  
She bent over to get the item, her ass in full view for Rick to bashfully admire.  
His heart fluttered a little bit as he was taken aback, having never had time to check out what stood right in front of him.

"I think we've got all we need to. If we're not careful, I'll drop everything." Michonne made a light joke and looked at Rick's face, half in a daze. "You okay?"  
Rick washed the look of awe off his face and cocked his head. "Yeah. Come on let's-"  
In all his teenage lust, Rick had forgotten about the rack of clothes right behind him and crashed into it, causing it to create the loudest sound.  
"Looks like we better-" The sound of groans filled the street outside the shops.  
A moment of panic swept between them. Thinking they could easily escape caused them to naively not search for an escape route in case things went belly up.

Michonne and Rick threw the bags over their shoulder and drew their weapons. Rick watched Michonne's back as they walked in unison towards what seemed to be a managers room at the back of the shop.  
As they closed the door behind them, they heard a crash and the crunching of glass beneath slow, dragging feet. They both cursed and scrambled to look for a key to lock the room.

Their eyes met each others when they couldn't find one at all. Rick's breathing became erratic, his chest rising and falling until Michonne placed her palm over his heart. Her eyes telling him to be calm as his mind raced thinking of Carl and Judith.  
They locked eyes for a few more seconds, until she dropped her hand to his and squeezed it so his hardened around his gun.

She stood in front of him defensively and put her back against the door when the sound of groans drew closer.  
The room held few pieces of furniture hostage. A desk scattered with remains of papers and paper clips, a chair, a lamp and a book case, so Rick took it upon himself to stand behind it in case the place became overrun and both him and Michonne needed a barrier from the dead.

One last time their eyes found each other before the inevitable push of walkers against the door begun.  
Rick watched as Michonne struggled to keep it closed, however, he trusted her judgement. She had guided him here, her confidence alluring even as she struggled. Her swagger was immense as she finally stepped back from the door and swung a clean cut, taking off three walker heads in an instant.

She was unstoppable, a beauty. Her strong arms never-ending in their strength, blow after blow.  
A helplessness set in Rick's bones. No, he couldn't fire the gun, so he looked around. Searching on the desk as the sound of bodies falling to the floor and Michonne's Katana slicing through the air filled the room.  
In one of the drawers was a pair of scissors and he mumbled a silent prayer for no absolute reason and went to join her at the door, watching as the last scrambling zombies made their way to the fate of her blade.

Her hard eyes didn't let up a single emotion, no sign of fear was evident. Michonne's body language conveyed the opinion of not needing saving and needing Rick as far away as possible in case she mistook him for a zombie. In all her rage, she could see red.

In all of it, she could think of nothing but Judith. How even if she went down, she needed for Rick to make it, to be there for her to grow. It had been a long time since she had held something so pure, so innocent... something so close to Andre.  
She missed him, wanted to kiss him, to see his face again. In moment's like this, when more and more kept coming relentlessly, never getting the message, her rage would boil. She would bleed into her Katana and it would take over, avenging her son's death.

Eventually, less and less leaked through until she felt arms wrap around her from behind, tight and secure. A burning sensation grew in her arms and she dropped her Katana, the sound muffled by the carpet in the room.  
Rick watched as she regained her composure, his mind still in disarray as he watched the bodies of walkers in front of them.

Her breathing started to slow again, both their hearts finally finding a steady rhythm.  
"We should really get out of here, before more come." Michonne finally spoke, escaping Rick's arms and picking up her Katana.  
They found the back exit and walked in silence and Michonne sliced a final few till they found themselves walking safely in the nearby woods.

"What was that, back there?" Rick questioned.  
"It was me saving you... and Judith... and Carl."

Rick stumbled upon replies to that. But finally decided to reply, "Well... if you ever need saving, I'm follow you."  
"Ironic, because you set off for something and I follow. Like a co-pilot." She smiled and shook her head whilst Rick nudged her lovingly.

[Reviews. Good? Bad? I have a lot of time on my hands so these will be updated pretty quickly!]


	2. Need

_**"I needed her, I know she needed me."**_

She had crumbled.  
Rick found her on the floor, Katana strapped to her back and wails soaking into her hands along with her tears.  
At first, he didn't have a clue what to do. His hands began to shake at the thought of touching her like this. She looked so delicate, mimicking glass in her fetal position.

He looked at his hands, they weren't pure any more. They were rigid and far too dangerous, too used to turning into fists in seconds to hold something like her.  
Rick understood. He understood why she was on the floor, like a lost soul with no hope.  
His backbone.

He was well aware it must have been tiring to always stand beside him, to challenge him, to watch him saunter, ignore... lie even, and not have any clue why.  
And that Katana, that held so much hope in her. The cause of death for two innocent people when all she wanted to do with it was survive. To help others survive.  
Something deep in his gut stirred and he was sure it wasn't close to whatever she was feeling.

Rick was sure Michonne knew he was there, she was never not aware of her surroundings and he was grateful of that. It was part of why he felt so comfortable leaving Judith in her care over anyone else.  
He sunk to the ground next to her, gently resting a hand on her thigh to let her know she was here. His other hand found his way to her face, brushing a few lock out of her face whilst wiping away tears from her face.

Rick began to hum, a soft tune that he would hum to Judith to get her to sleep in the church.  
He wanted to help her. To find whatever hurt and crush it in her fists. He was angry.  
Angry wasn't the word. It was more. It was rage. It was never-ending.  
It was seeing beauty right in front of you, threatening to break and not being able to do anything at all.

Her body shook violently in response to the song, as if it ruptured up memories she didn't want.  
Slowly, Rick stopped humming and let the silence sink in. Heavy and unsympathetic to the situation.  
"Don't stop humming." It was a gentle whisper. If the silence hadn't been there, he wouldn't have heard it.

Rick wanted to hold her, to cuddle her and make her feel safe. Just like she had made his kids feel safe.  
"Michonne..." He rubbed her thigh and looked at her, taking in all her features as he looked her up and down. In her self-destruction, she was still beautiful and strong.

"It's the second time and I-" She gulped in air and her body shook again.  
Rick took his hands an scooped her up, resting her against him and letting her rest her head on his shoulders. He stroked her hair, thoughts of what to say rushed through his mind but never escaped his mouth.

Rick started to hum, quieter and slower until the shakes in her bodies turned to hiccups and all was silent save the sound of their breathing.  
He kissed her forehead gently and rubbed her shoulder. "That Katana, you're going to pick it up and you're going to become one with it. All over again. And you are going to forgive it for all it's sins."  
He felt her shake against him, guilt riding him him at the thought he'd made her cry again, that he'd spoke to soon. Instead, his ears heard her laughter like a bird song in the winter.  
"You sound like Gabriel."  
Rick chuckled. "Yeah, well, only for you..."

She looked up at him then, her eyes brown on top of pink and moist. "I'm sorry.." She started but I pressed a finger against her plump lips.  
"Don't ever apologise for being this. You are still... beautiful. Thank you. For sticking by me."  
"I'm tired Rick." Michonne mumbled. "I miss home."

He felt a lump rise in his throat. Flashes of Lori and Carl back home, baking cakes and swimming found their way into his mind.  
"You know Michonne-" At the sound of her name, a snore came as a response. He smiled.  
Feeling her warmth against his body made him realise that his memories couldn't give him that. Yes, nostalgia was an ever lasting thing, that brought both hurt and happiness.  
But not this warmth.  
"Michonne, you're home."


End file.
